Page 32 of The Sole Suspect
“All I need is you.”
The deep rumble that escaped his throat jolted straight through my body. My flesh prickled everywhere his fingertips had made contact.
“You’re in a heat haze right now.” His eyes searched my face.
“I haven’t lost my mind.” I pressed closer, inhaling his sharp pine scent. My pulse thrummed against his palm where it rested on my neck. “I know exactly what I want.” I traced the strong line of his jaw. “I want you.”
I tilted my head up and met his lips with mine. Warmth spread through my core when he intensified the kiss, his fingers weaving through my hair. A desperate sound escaped my throat. When he broke away, I chased his mouth with my own.
“Not here.” His voice came out husky and strained. “You deserve better than the backseat of my car for your heat.”
As we approached his car, Dominic pulled out his phone and pressed a speed dial number. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, thumb tracing maddening circles that sent waves of pleasure rippling through my already hypersensitive body. The contact anchored me as another wave of pre-heat hit, making my knees threaten to buckle.
“Abigail,” he said as soon as the call connected, his voice shifting into that commanding alpha tone that somehow made me wantto simultaneously submit and defy him. The contrast between this corporate Dominic and the man whose thumb was currently teasing my scent gland—his touch driving me to distraction—was deliciously jarring.
I leaned closer, drawn by his warmth, by his scent, by everything that made himDominic. My forehead rested against his shoulder as I breathed him in, pine and cinnamon filling my lungs.
“Have Brian handle the Sullivan merger documents tonight,” he continued, somehow maintaining his business demeanor despite the small tremor I felt in his body as I nuzzled against his neck. “And tell him to clear my schedule for the next few days.”
I couldn’t hear the response, but I could feel the vibration of Dominic’s growl beneath my lips as I traced the line of his throat.
“Brian knows the protocol,” he said, voice dropping lower as my teeth grazed his pulse point. “Have him use my signature for anything urgent. I trust his judgment.”
His free hand slid from my lower back to my hip, gripping tightly as if to hold me in place—though whether it was to stop me from continuing my exploration or to prevent me from pulling away, I couldn’t tell.
“If anyone needs me—” His words cut off as I found the sensitive spot below his ear. He inhaled sharply, the sound sending a bolt of satisfaction through me. “If anyone needs me,” he tried again, voice rougher now, “Blake knows where to find me.”
He ended the call and pocketed his phone in one fluid motion, then used both hands to frame my face. “You’re playing with fire, little cobbler,” he growled, eyes darkened by need.
“Maybe I want to get burned,” I whispered back, surprised at my own boldness.
The growl that escaped him was animal, primal, and entirely too enticing. He opened the passenger door and helped me inside. The leather seats felt cool against my fevered skin, but did nothing to ease the growing ache within me.
I gripped the leather upholstery while Dominic guided his car along Fairfax Mansion’s winding driveway, the wheels grinding against the gravel path. Through the side mirror, I watched Richard Fairfax’s grand house grow smaller, its windows casting golden light into the dusk. My fingertips drew meaningless shapes on the window’s surface as we merged onto the street, the car’s soft engine at odds with my racing pulse.
The drive to Cobblers’ Corner stretched eternal. Each red light tortured us with stillness, forced distance. Dominic’s knuckles bleached white on the steering wheel. My skin burned everywhere my clothes touched, everywhere they didn’t. The leather seats creaked as I shifted, trying to ease the growing ache.
Dominic’s scent filled the enclosed space, making it hard to breathe, hard to think of anything but the need building inside me. I watched the muscles of his forearm tighten each time he shifted gears, the sight sending sparks through my body.
“Almost there,” Dominic promised, his voice strained but gentle. “Hold on for me.”
When we finally reached my shop, we scarcely cleared the entrance before his lips claimed mine, stumbling against each other as need overcame coordination. In the private haven of Cobblers’ Corner, Dominic’s hands finally—blessedly—found myskin as he pulled my shirt from where it’d been tucked into my slacks, his fingers brushing against my lower back.
The last coherent thought I had before heat consumed me entirely was that this time, when dawn broke, my alpha would still be here, by my side, where he belonged.
CHAPTER TEN
“Lock the door,” I commanded, my voice already husky as a wave of heat coursed through me.
Dominic’s response was a rumbling sound from deep in his chest as he fumbled with the lock. The silver ring around his pupils had all but disappeared, consumed by desire. “Christ, Leo—you smell so fucking good.”
The moment he clicked the lock into place, I pressed against him, my fingers making quick work of his tie while my mouth found the pulse point below his jaw. I dragged my tongue over his scent gland, savoring the taste that was uniquely his—earthy and sharp, like forest after a thunderstorm.
“Touch me, Dom,” I breathed against his skin, feeling a delicious emptiness building inside me, my body preparing itself for what was to come.
Something primitive flashed in his eyes. With a fluid movement that stole my breath, he spun me around, pinning me against the door. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed against me through our clothes as I arched back instinctively.
“I can smell how ready you are for me,” he murmured, voice dropping to that resonant alpha register that vibrated through my bones. “Already slick and ready for me.”